


coming in unannounced, drag my nails on the tile

by artenon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 20:06:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3868123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artenon/pseuds/artenon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At some point during the summer months of hard training, Kei had a fleeting hope of meeting Nekoma on the national stage. He imagined meeting Kuroo’s eyes across the net, imagined Kuroo’s slow smirk and wink before the start of the first set, and his stomach jumped, and then he pushed the fantasy away, because it was hopeless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	coming in unannounced, drag my nails on the tile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kiyachis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyachis/gifts).



> [DAM U KAY](https://twitter.com/kiyachis/status/594792539670065152) IT IS 5 AM
> 
> [(tumblr link)](http://artenon.tumblr.com/post/118016851170)
> 
> (title from irresistible by fall out boy)

His fingers are sprained, Ushijima’s spikes keep blowing past him, and it _hurts_ —physically, because Kei still refuses to care enough for it to really affect him emotionally.

God, it’s not like he really expects them to win against Shiratorizawa, against a Top 8 team with a Top 3 ace.

They lost the first set and they’ll lose the second, and the third, and then it’ll be over. That’s it. They tried, they overcame Seijou, but in the end, they’re just not good enough.

There will always be someone stronger.

At some point during the summer months of hard training, Kei had a fleeting hope of meeting Nekoma on the national stage. He imagined meeting Kuroo’s eyes across the net, imagined Kuroo’s slow smirk and wink before the start of the first set, and his stomach jumped, and then he pushed the fantasy away, because it was hopeless.

It is hopeless.

Maybe he thought, when the first set was just starting, that they could actually do this. They could beat Shiratorizawa and go to nationals. But that’s gone now. There’s simply no way.

The worst part of it is, his brother is in the crowd. Kei hates that he’ll just see them lose so overwhelmingly. The first match of Kei’s that Akiteru will have seen. And Akiteru tried so much to help him prepare for this match.

And now—God, _now_ , of all times, Kei begins to regret.

 _I’m sorry_ , he thinks. _If only I’d trained more. If only I’d tried harder from the beginning, maybe I’d be strong enough now. But I didn’t, and I’m not. I’m not strong enough. Sorry. I’m sorry._

The third years will be devastated. Hinata and Kageyama will be crushed. Yamaguchi…

Their defeat is inevitable. He knew it was coming, he’s always known, and it’s not even his fault, but God, he’s _so sorry_.

He hates this feeling. All of his carefully constructed walls of _I don’t care_ are crumbling down, and his chest feels horribly, horribly tight.

They’ve been volleying for a while now. Whoever gets this point will take the momentum and charge with it. Kei’s lungs are burning.

Shiratorizawa’s setter sends the ball to Ushijima.

Kei leaps to block it, but he’s thinking, _Just let the ball drop already. We know who’s going to win._

The ball breaks through his block, as expected, and Kei stumbles on his landing and hits the floor.

He doesn’t get up.

His arms and legs are shaking from exertion. He’s clammy with sweat. He wants to throw up.

Then, through the din of the crowd, a piercing, “TSUKKI!”

Kei whips his head around. He recognizes the voice, even through the haze of his pounding head, but he must be imagining things, because what business does Kuroo have being here?

But no, there in the crowd, standing up in the bleachers, is not only Kuroo, but Bokuto and Akaashi as well.

Bokuto is shaking Kuroo’s shoulders, yelling at Kuroo loud enough for Kei (and everyone in the gymnasium, Kei could die of embarrassment right now) to hear him. “What the hell, Kuroo! This was supposed to be a surprise! End of the game, tackle-hugging him on the court! Remember any of that?! You just ruined it so hard, oh my God! I can’t believe you!”

Akaashi is rubbing his temples. Kei agrees.

But Kuroo’s eyes have locked with his and he cups his hands around his mouth and calls again, “Tsukki!”

“Kei, who is that?!” Akiteru demands. He sounds far away. “Kei!”

Kei wants to die now, please and thank you.

“You have to beat Ushiwaka, remember?!” Bokuto adds, apparently given up on scolding Kuroo in favor of joining him. “That way I can beat him!”

“That makes no sense!” Kei yells back, because his teammates are staring between them and him. His face is burning, and not just from all the exercise he’s been doing.

The referee is shouting at them to get back to their match.

Kei pushes himself to his feet, a little shaky still. He’s breathing heavily and he can’t tear his eyes away from Kuroo.

He waits for Kuroo’s line, some sort of taunt or provocation to get him back on his feet (metaphorically, this time). That’s what Kuroo’s good at, he’s learned. He doesn’t do it maliciously. He does it to get them to play harder, not much different from how Daichi riles Tanaka up all the time.

For a few seconds, Kuroo just stares at him. Kei can’t read his expression from here. Finally, he does speak. Not shouting, but projecting loud and clear nonetheless, “I believe in you.”

Kei loses his breath.

He can’t meet Kuroo’s eyes anymore, so he looks away to see Bokuto giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up and Akaashi nodding, nearly imperceptible from this distance.

“Tsukki!” Yamaguchi calls from the bench.

Kei glances back, and Yamaguchi is giving him the broadest grin he’s ever seen on him. Yamaguchi doesn’t say anything, just shakes his head and gestures for him to get back in position. The referee is really getting annoyed now, so Kei does.

“Bokuto-san is here, oh, my God,” Hinata says. “He’s the top fourth spiker.” As if he didn’t practice with him, along with the others, every night for weeks.

“Calm down, dumbass,” Kageyama snaps at him.

“He’s right, though,” Tanaka says. “And since they’re rooting for us, we can’t disappoint our fans, now can we?”

“Those guys sure are full of surprises,” Daichi comments. He looks pointedly at Kei. “And so are you.”

Kei averts his eyes. He’s not blushing.

The match resumes.

They were— _are_ losing. Shiratorizawa just got the point after a long and exhausting volley. But the atmosphere around Kei’s team has shifted. No longer barely hanging on, they’re all fired up. The energy doesn’t wane, even when they lose the next point.

Can they win this? Can they really win this?

Shiratorizawa just seems so insurmountable.

But Kuroo believes in him. Kei doesn’t believe in his own abilities, but Kuroo does. Kuroo thinks he can do this.

And, God, Kei doesn’t want to let him down. He wants to win. He wants—God help him—he wants Bokuto, Akaashi, and Kuroo to tackle him on the court while they’re all flushed with victory.

 _I clearly don’t have enough oxygen in my brain right now_ , he thinks, but he smiles.

.

.

.

.

.

They win. They _win_ , and Kei is about dead on his feet, but Kuroo nearly bowls him over and Kei has to cling to the back of Kuroo’s jacket to keep from falling.

Kuroo whispers, “You did it, Tsukki, I knew you could, I’m so proud of you,” and more into his ear, squeezing him so tightly.

Bokuto and Akaashi appear on either side of him, and then it’s a group hug, except Kei is still hanging onto Kuroo.

“I’m—very sweaty right now,” Kei manages to say. The four-person hug is becoming uncomfortably warm.

Bokuto is congratulating him, but Kei barely hears him, he’s so lightheaded. Luckily, Hinata tackles Bokuto in a hug and begins gushing to him, effectively shifting Bokuto’s attention away from Kei.

Akaashi reaches up to ruffle his damp hair. “Congratulations,” he says with a little smile.

“Thanks,” Kei says, still feeling breathless from the game.

Kuroo squeezes him again. “I’m so happy right now.”

“This isn’t even your team,” Kei says.

“No,” Kuroo agrees. “But it’s yours.”

Yes. Yes it is. Kei’s team, that Kuroo worked so hard to help, because he wanted them to be able to face each other in a real match. And even beyond that, because he didn’t care whose team will win in the end. He just wanted them to reach their potential.

Kei. Kei is the one Kuroo worked so hard to help. To help even see his potential.

They are standing very close. At some point, Kei has shifted from clinging to Kuroo’s back to clutching his arms. He still feels a bit unsteady on his feet, completely worn from playing five full sets against Shiratorizawa, so he doesn’t let go, but the proximity isn’t doing much to help slow Kei’s heart down.

God, he wants to kiss him.

“You can,” Kuroo says.

“Oh,” Kei says. “I said that out loud.”

“Yep.” Kuroo can’t even look smug. He’s smiling too much.

“You’re missing an incredibly good opportunity to make fun of me,” Kei says, because it’s almost painful, Kuroo letting this chance slip by.

“I know,” Kuroo says, still smiling. “But I’m just too happy.”

God. Kei kisses him, and it’s the most amazing thing ever.

(That is, until he remembers Akiteru is in the crowd.)


End file.
